


As They Fade: Zayn

by McSwaggy2000



Series: As They Fade [2]
Category: One Direction
Genre: Angry Niall, Artist Zayn, Confused Liam, Depressed Louis, Depression, Fluff, Liam Payne & Harry Styles Friendship, M/M, Past Liam Payne/Danielle Peazer, Protective Zayn, Sad Louis, Self-Harm, Smut, Zayn Malik & Louis Tomlinson Friendship, adventurer niall, best friend zayn, bicurious zayn, infatuated zayn, therapist harry, zouis bffs omg
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-24
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 12:00:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,237
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1056527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/McSwaggy2000/pseuds/McSwaggy2000
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In which Louis is a schizophrenic, Harry is a psychology major, Zayn is there for his friends, Liam needs some time, and Niall just wants to know who he really is.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Zayn's Point of View

I miss Ethan too. I was the one who had to convince Louis that yes, he really was dead, all the while dealing with the crushing fact that one of my best friends was gone forever. I stood by him at the funeral and watched as he stood over the casket and cried and cried and had to be pulled from the room because he began screaming at everyone that they were all selfish, and they were just there because they would look bad if they weren't. None of them knew him, not really! None of them cared! I was the one who had to spend every night for months watching over my best friend to make sure he took his meds and didn't kill himself. I was the one who had to watch as, day after day, Louis Tomlinson, my best friend since primary school, stared out the window at life going on without Ethan Larr. I was the one who had to go through all of that shit. 

No one really thinks of that, huh? Bet you sure as hell didn't.

Not that I blame anyone, least of all Louis. He couldn't help it; he never could help it. 

My life is just a little bit upsetting because this isn't the way it was supposed to go, okay? A few years ago, things were good. Louis and I, we were going places. He was going to be this amazing football player and me, I was going to be an artist. But now he can barely even go outside without having a panic attack and I don't feel much like doing art anymore. Things just aren't fun whenever your life is like ours. 

So I spend day after day waking up in the same uncomfortable bed, going to the same shit job at the same record store, and go home to the same shit flat, sleep in the same uncomfortable bed, and wake up to do it all over again.

But then something happened in the form of Harry Styles. He was kind of a chain reaction, you see, because with Harry Styles came a whole load of other stuff.


	2. Liam

Across the hall from Louis lives a pretty, petite girl with full, pink lips and skin the color of smooth caramel. Her name is something like Danielle and once in a while, as Louis sleeps on the couch and I flip through the channels of his TV on mute, I can hear the soft sound of The Beatles float from her flat. She seems absolutely cool and every once in a while whenever Louis hasn't been out of his flat in a few days to check is mail or something, she'll call me because I gave her my number in case of emergencies. Ethan used to be pretty good friends with her as well, and one day when I'm moving a few of my things over to Louis's, I make a discovery about Miss Danielle.

She has a wildly foul mouth. 

The door to her flat swings wide open as I'm trying to balance a box of things in one hand and unlock Louis's door with the other, (I've just dropped Louis off at his second therapist visit, after he insisted that I needn't stay) and a vase crashes into the wall a few feet from my head as a boy is shoved out the door, a cardboard box of clothes and toiletries in his large hands.

 

"BASTARD!'" Danielle's voice is like a banshees as she appears in the doorway, her curly hair wild around her even wilder face. Her eyes are huge and her cheeks are tinged pink with rage as her hand curls around the door. "You need some TIME?"

I stop trying to open the door and instead try to make myself part of the wall, hoping that Danielle won't see me and start screaming at me as well. The vase that shattered against the wall is now a mess of purple glass and pink roses upon the floor in a pool of water. The boy who stands between Danielle and I is not really a boy at all, but a man with short brown hair shaved on the sides and long at the front and middle, sort of like mine, but less played up. Large brown eyes beg Danielle to stop, but she continues screaming and screaming, and the man winces at every foul word that comes out of her mouth, stands still as high heels are flung at him, and doesn't say a word as finally, Danielle marches out of her apartment, slaps him firmly across the face, and calls him a, "Fucking bastard, Liam Payne! You're a right fucking prick, my mum was absolutely right about you! "

It isn't until the door to Danielle's flat slams shut with a racket that I actually breath. Liam Payne doesn't seem to move an inch.

"Harsh." I say, because he knows I'm there and we may as well accept what just happened.

Liam Payne shrugs. "At least she got it out of her system." He turns to me and all of a sudden, it's like his eyes are a freight train, bearing down on me, taking my breath away with every second. And what the hell because I'm not gay. I am most definitely not gay, not even the time I found Louis's porn with two guys who kind of looked like Leonardo DiCaprio and Ashton Kutcher and may or may not have wanked off it it. I mean, I've never really though about being gay before. I guess I have checked out a few guys' asses before but I mean, what guy hasn't? It's perfectly normal, but staring at Liam Payne, I feel a little bit more than normal. A little bit more than good.

He's sort of all kinds of perfect, with a jaw line to die for and a lovely mess of stubble growing along his face and an intriguing birthmark on the base of his neck that suddenly I want to suck and bite at until all sorts of sounds are omitting from his lovely pink lips. He's about to say something, probably along the lines of, "please ravage me against this wall," but all that comes out is, "Do you maybe have a dustpan?"

I blink at him until I remember that I was about to go into Louis' flat with my things, which are still in my hands, and nod quickly - anything to get this lovely creature to stick around for a bit. I fiddle with the keys in the lock until the door comes open and lie my box of things on the counter. I look out at Liam, who's picking up a crushed rose and twirling it idly between his fingers as I search Louis's bare cabinets for cleaning supplies. "You can set your, uh, things in here if you like," I call out, and he looks at me in a sort of daze until he nods and walks into the flat. 

I finally find the dustpan and small hand broom under the sink and straighten back up to face Liam, who is standing on the opposite side of the kitchen bar, looking awkwardly at the flipped over picture frames on the other side of the counter. I hand him the dustpan and broom and shrug at the pictures, "People have different ways of coping," I say simply, and he nods. I suspect that Danielle has told him all about the poor, unstable lad who lives here. Everyone pities Louis, that's why he doesn't like going out. 

Iwatch as he goes out and sweeps up the shattered vase and the roses. He straightens up and looks at me questioningly, nodding back into the apartment.

"Oh, yeah, go ahead," I say, and watch as he dumps the pan into Louis's garbage. I hop onto the bar stool in front of Liam's box of things and he stands awkwardly, placing the dustpan and broom onto the counter. "So, what happened, if you don't mind me asking?" I motioned my head towards Danielle's flat. Liam's cheeks colored lightly.

"I just need some time," he says quietly, "I thought that Danielle was... my type. Turns out she wasn't."

"Not really into gorgeous girls with quite excellent music taste?"

"Not really into girls," he blurts, and then eyes widen and he looks down at his hands. I blink slowly at him, and then look at his box. An old Man U hoodie is crumpled in the bottom, a pair of shoes haphazardly crammed into the sides, a few CD cases cracked and stuffed in, and a stack of old Batman comics sat in the middle, a little scattered but all together in very good shape. Temptation gets the best of me and slowly, I look at Liam Payne's lowered face, which is stained red. Suddenly his large hands scramble for his box, "Thanks for the dustpan," the words tumble out of his soft lips frantically as he turns and trips over his own feet trying to get out the door. As he goes, the top Batman comic slides off the top of the over-stuffed box and lands on the floor with a slap. Liam turns for it too late, because it's already in my hand, and I'm looking at it quietly, a grin playing on my lips.

"'A Death In The Family,'" I read from the cover.

"Yeah," suddenly, Liam's expression changes entirely, eagerness lighting his brown eyes, "It's the one where-"

"Jason Todd dies. I know, it was my favorite." I smile and shrug, "Broke my heart." I gave the comic back to Liam and smiled softly, and as I did, our fingers brushed, and electricity crackled through my veins. Liam's eyes shot to my face, and for a moment I wonder if he felt that too, until he places the comic back in his box.

"Thanks again," he says quietly, and I watch as the boy with the comic books walks out of the flat, determined that this will not be the last I see of Liam Payne.


	3. Better

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Wow so much Zouis

By the time I go to pick Louis up, it's dark, and so I bundle up against the too-cold weather and for a minute I swear it's snowing but that's probably just wishful thinking, especially for London, and rain suddenly begins falling, cold and hard, upon the pavement. In the car I crank the heat and on the drive across the city to the psychiatrist I found for Lou, Liam Payne is on my mind.

I've never thought about it much before, and I guess I've always just assumed that I was straight. All of my life I sort of gravitated towards girls because that's what guys did. My sexuality never was that much of a thing, not when Louis was the shocking one with his nonchalance of being utterly gay. I suppose I was just as nonchalant with being supposedly utterly straight, and comfortably bleeding into the background of normalcy when it came to relationships. Chatting up sweet girls with nice smiles and curvaceous bodies was all good and nice whenever you were looking for a good time, but the fact is that I've fallen asleep next to a warm woman's body feeling empty, confused, and utterly alone more often than not. I'd never really felt much towards a girl, but the way that I felt kissing into their soft necks was close enough for me to fool myself, I guess. 

But Liam Payne... He made me want to feel real for once. 

I clutch the steering wheel and shake my head lightly, squinting out into the dark past the rain-streaked windshield. 

I'd known him for less then a day, and he was making me realize things about myself that no amount of lovely girls could ever, no matter how hard they tried. I bit my lip and run my thumbs along the wheel. Slowly, through the sound of rain pattering down and my windshield wipers working away, I find myself working Liam Payne's name across my tongue. It sounds good. It sounds right. 

Slowly, I pull alongside the street next to Louis's therapist's office and as I make my way slowly inside, not minding the cool rain seeping into my scalp, still murmuring Liam's name over and over to myself, like a song I'd thought I had long forgotten. The lobby is small and welcoming, with a red carpet and a collection of waiting chairs along the walls. Soft muzak plays over a set of speakers. Along a wall between a door with a plaque reading 'Doctor Jeremiah Jennings' and a secretary's desk is a small electric fireplace, which crackles realistically. Another door is on the wall opposite of the entrance. Wearily, I walk over to the fireplace and hold out my hands, just as a door creaks open. I spin around, expecting Louis to be there, looking bashful and nervous and rubbing his arms softly, as he's taken to doing lately. Instead, when I turn around I see Liam Payne with a mug of steaming coffee in his hand, blinking at me.

"Holy shit," I breathe, because I just can't help it. "It must be fate."

This causes a positively pink blush to blossom across Liam Payne's face as he walks around me slowly, eyeing me like he doesn't quite know what to think, and frankly neither do I. I follow him with my eyes, and as he sits down the coffee on the edge of the desk, I notice the box of comics and clothes peeking out from underneath the desk. 

"Did you follow me to work?" he says, his hands working around the handle of the mug even as it's no longer in his hands. Liam Payne's nerves, I decide, are my favorite things about him. 

"Would it just totally ruin my chances if I said yes?" I ask, my hands suddenly lodged in my pockets as I rock back on my heels, completely delighted in seeing Liam's cheeks become a masterpiece of color. 

"Wh-what chances?" he murmurs, his eyes flitting everywhere but to me. Suddenly, a man appears beside me, I suppose having emerged from the other door, and Liam scrambles to hand him the mug. "Here's your coffee, Mr. Jennings," he says quickly, the color not disappearing from his cheeks, his eyes still glued to the floor. I look to who I suppose is Jeremiah Jennings. He looks nice enough, with wavy hair that comes a little past his ears and blue eyes which are crinkled at the edges. He takes the coffee, showing a kind smile.

"You alright, Liam?" he asks, and Liam's eyes widen a bit, nodding and raising his head.

"Fine, sir."

"Right," Jennings doesn't notice me for a moment, "Mr. Tomlinson's gone, so if you could please inform me when Ms. Calder comes in with her personal counselor, I would greatly appreciate it, Liam." 

"Yes, sir," Liam returns to the desk and I'm about to laugh at the thought of him being a secretary when suddenly Jennings' words hit me.

"He's gone?" I ask, and Jeremiah Jennings seems to notice me for the first time.

"Who are you?" he asks, extending a hand.

"His best friend," I say quickly, my head turning about because I was so stupid stupid stupid and focused on Liam that I had entirely forgotten about Louis. "Where is he?"

Jennings blinks at me. "He told me that you were here fifteen minutes ago."

Dread washes over me as I curse myself a million times over and run from the lobby, out into the cold night. The street is illuminated lightly by the lamps and as I look left and right, there isn't a soul in sight. How the hell am I supposed to find him now? There's a million places he could have gone, a million things he could be doing. I take out my cellular and dial his number three times before my fingers stop shaking well enough for me to get the number right.

On the fourth ring, he answers, and it's with a sigh of relief that I cry, "Louis! Where the hell are you?"

"I'm here." He says, and not only do I hear his voice through the receiver, but I hear it echoing along the street as well. I look towards the voice; straight ahead across the road, and there stands Louis, in front of a boutique. I hang up my phone without another word and run to him, not looking for cars coming either way. He's shivering in a thin t-shirt and I put my hands on both of his arms.

"What the hell were you thinking?" I breathed, too relieved that he was there and not somewhere standing on the edge of a building or with a blade held to his arm to be truly upset. I'm just glad that he's alright, if not a bit frozen. His eyes search my face as I hold him at arms length, looking him over to make sure he really is fine - at least on the outside. His nose is pink and his eyes are red, like he's been crying.

"I was thinking that I wanted to breathe, and see what I could see," he whispered, his words forming mist as they came out into the air. "And you know what I saw, Zayn?"

I stop rubbing my hands frantically along his arms, trying to create heat from friction. His eyes are shining with tears and one slips down his face. Louis's chin trembles and, for a moment, he looks like the kid I met fourteen years ago, scared but too stubborn to show it. Except now he doesn't even have the freedom of not showing it, because his shell has cracked so much that his scared facade won't stop shining through, no matter how much he tries to hide. His eyes stop wandering, and his voice cracks into a whimper. Louis Tomlinson, the strongest person I've ever known, the kid who shoved Billy Posey, the school bully, into a dumpster, the teenager who stood up in English and told the teacher to kindly fuck off, because William Shakespeare was a wildly flaming homosexual, thanks very much, and those poems were absolutely about a man, and what was wrong with that?, tries to breath in but the breath catches and tears flow down his cheeks. "I saw that the world goes on. I saw that there's some good shit left, Zayn. Jennings was telling me about this little girl that I heard about a while ago who had leukemia, and she woke up one day and it was gone. Just -- gone. Maybe miracles do happen, Zayn."

His face scrunches up with emotion as he looks at me, and then his eyes flicker away, his teeth biting at his bottom lip. "And maybe, if I wish hard enough, one will happen to me too. Maybe I can get better."

I feel a lump swell in my throat, so I clutch Louis to my chest, his head rests on my shoulder, his tears dampen my coat. "I know you can, man," I say, trying hard not to choke on my own words, trying hard to be strong for my best friend.

After a moment or two comes Louis's voice again. "Zayn?"

"Yeah?"

"Ethan's death... It wasn't my fault."

"No, Louis, it wasn't."


End file.
